


Stay With Me

by spicyshiro



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Drinking, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Mutual Pining, Oblivious Shiro (Voltron), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, but no drunk sex, mentions of semi-pubic sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-20
Updated: 2019-04-20
Packaged: 2020-01-20 19:26:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18531595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spicyshiro/pseuds/spicyshiro
Summary: Shiro didn't expect anything to come of going to the local dive bar. It was a Friday ritual for him; to just relax, have a few drinks and chat with other regulars. It was normal, familiar. The night progressing like every other Shiro had spent here since coming to the city.It was normal, until it wasn't.Until Hunk came in.Or: Shiro and Hunk were friends with benefits in college and developed feelings for each other but never confessed before they parted ways. They run into each other years later and the spark is rekindled.





	Stay With Me

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the Shunk Week event on twitter but I'm very late oof  
> Under the Day 1 prompt Longing

Shiro didn't expect anything to come of going to the local dive bar. It was a Friday ritual for him; to just relax, have a few drinks and chat with other regulars. He'd even challenge Thace to a round or two of pool if the mood struck him (he never won, but the friendly competition was a welcome reprieve from the corporate bullshit Shiro dealt with on the daily.) Shiro had a glass of whiskey he was working his way through, pop music from the local radio station playing softly, ballads about finding love autotuned to synth beats - barely heard over the clack of pool balls colliding and the loud ribbing from Thace as he sunk the black eight. Shiro discussed sport with Kolivan, who listened and added his own commentary every now and then like the good bartender he was. It was normal, familiar. The night progressing like every other Shiro had spent here since coming to the city.

It was normal, until it wasn't.

Until Hunk came in.

He was different than Shiro remembered, taller perhaps? He couldn't tell. He had an undercut now - it suited him much better than the shaggy hair he'd had in college, although he still wore his trademark headband (the one Shiro gifted to him in first year. The fact he still wore it didn't mean anything. Right?) Hunk stood in the doorway to the bar, bundled in a well worn brown jacket and thick scarf, stomping snow off his boots before he looked up to survey the area.

His eyes locked with Shiro’s. They were as brown as ever.

A grin spread across his face, warm and inviting, lopsided in a charming way. A familiar sight Shiro hadn't seen in years.

That smile made Shiro’s heart thump painfully in his chest; a battering ram intent on destroying all his defences. It sped up to a ridiculous pace as Hunk made his way over, his smile never wavering for a second - genuinely pleased to see an old friend. Although friend was a loose term, considering the amount of sexcapades they had in college. Sexcapades with one sided feelings on Shiro’s part, but he was over it (or so he told himself.)

(He wasn't.)

“Hey, Shiro! It's been a long time, man. How are you?” Hunk sat on the bar stool next to Shiro, ordering his usual brew of beer that Shiro thought tasted like piss. Some things didn't change. He was reminded of all the times they'd sat on his shitty second hand couch in his shitty apartment drinking the same shitty beer - bitching about the struggles that come with the first bittersweet taste of adulthood. The nostalgia of it all made him realise he needed to get himself together. He was an adult, for God’s sake, and told himself it was best to let sleeping dogs lie. Hunk never confessed to him back then, so it was unfair for Shiro to hope he would do so now. Assuming, of course, Hunk even had feelings for Shiro in the first place. Granted, Shiro also didn’t say anything, but that’s _not the point_. Hunk wanted to be just friends and so Shiro would respect that by not confessing that he’d loved Hunk since second year.

Shiro tried to scull his whiskey with as much subtlety as he could while Hunk settled himself. Hunk had moved on from their arrangement years ago, and Shiro was decidedly way too sober for this interaction; the persistent ache in his chest, the void he could never fill, the yearning for something more all made themselves known with more vehemence the longer he looked at Hunk. He was happy to see Hunk again, he truly was, but he was nowhere near ready to deal with the emotions that came with it - having buried them deep after graduation, each going their own ways.

“Doing good,” he said, ducking his head to stare into his empty glass (vaguely hoping to divine some wisdom from the steadily melting ice cubes), and “good” was only a half lie. He was good five minutes ago. Now? Not so much. “I didn't expect to see you here. I thought you moved south?” Pursuing engineering jobs and, from what Shiro heard, there was no shortage of them down there.

“Oh, I did! I'm down near the border now. I have some family here that I’m visiting for the weekend,” Hunk said, oblivious to Shiro’s internal panic. He cheerily thanked Kolivan for the beer and Shiro struggled to not stare at the bob of Hunk’s adams apple as he swallowed the beverage. It was always a fantasy of Shiro’s to mark that particular spot with a ring of hickeys - a collar of his own making, possessive in the most primal way. He berated himself because now was absolutely not the time for that line of thinking. “It’s such a coincidence that we met,” Hunk continued. “I’ve been meaning to catch up with you for ages but work keeps me pretty busy these days.”

“You still a civil engineer, then?” Shiro asked conversationally, catching the bartender's attention with a flick of his fingers, tipping his glass in Kolivan’s direction silently asking for a refill.

“Yep, I work at the coast to preserve beaches and stuff like that. It's not as fancy as what they do at NASA but I love it anyway. How's architecture treating you?”

“I've helped design most of the new apartment buildings in the city,” he said with a shrug, nonchalant, accepting his glass back from the bartender.

Hunk whistled. “Impressive. That must pay well.”

“Well enough.” Shiro was starting to feel the alcohol, his thoughts coherent enough but also a little fuzzy. He blames the next words that came out of his mouth on the whiskey. “Well enough that the rest of your drinks are on me.”

Hunk protested, because of course he would, but Shiro stood firm. Hunk relented and Shiro bought them a round of _real_ drinks. Several tequila shots were poured out - “For old times sake,” - and downed methodically, Hunk grimacing after each shot as the alcohol settled too long on his tongue, coughed from the burn in his throat that he hasn't experienced since college. Shiro laughed at his expression - Hunk used to down shots like they were water but some things do change apparently.

That was about the last coherent thought Shiro had before more tequila. He vaguely remembered versing Thace at pool, his cue missing the ball completely on more than one occasion. But Hunk was a master at pool in any state, inebriated or otherwise. His skills and sheer dumb luck would perhaps even - dare he say - give Thace a run for his money. And if Shiro stared at Hunk's ass as he bent over to line up his shot, briefly fantasising about burying his cock balls deep between those plump cheeks, well that was between him and his dick. His half hard dick. Fuck.

Hunk was still an affectionate drunk - always had to have his hands resting on or petting someone - and the hand on Shiro’s hip, thumb rubbing soft circles through the fabric of his shirt, as he waited for his turn was not helping Shiro will away his erection at all. The last functioning brain cell he had left was urging him to go home before he did something stupid like suck Hunk's cock in the bathroom (which seemed more appealing the more he thought about it). In the end, Kolivan made the decision for him, ushering the two out so he could close up. The pair stood out on the sidewalk, arms linked for stability. “That was the most fun I've had in awhile,” Hunk said, losing his balance and wobbling a bit before Shiro pulled him upright again, their faces close enough for their fogged breaths to mingle. Shiro could feel his cheeks warm as he stared at Hunk's very kissable lips. He cleared his throat and turned away.

“Where are you staying? I'll call a taxi.” Shiro may have been drunk, be he was still responsible.

“The uh, hotel? Near the train thing? I don't remember what it's called but there's definitely a train involved somewhere,” Hunk said, leaning heavily on Shiro and talking loudly with his hands. He must mean the station. Shiro’s - somewhat jumbled - mental map of the city told him the station was nowhere near them. _Don't offer to stay with you, don't offer to stay with you -_

“My place is closer, did you want to crash there for the night?”

Fuck.

Hunk's eyes lit up, hopeful. “Do you have a cat?”

“No?”

His expression fell. “Oh. That's a shame.” Syllables drawn out more than necessary combined with Hunk's pout was a recipe for disaster. The victim? Shiro’s heart. Hunk was cute when he pouted; brows furrowed, cheeks puffed out, lips a thin line. He had the almost unstoppable urge to reach out and smooth away the wrinkles, his hand even twitching up to do so before he realised. “I'd still like to crash but a cat would’ve made it better,” Hunk said.

Shiro laughed as he led his friend down the street towards his apartment. He'd forgotten about Hunk's (somewhat endearing) fascination with animals when he was drunk. More than one house party was spent in the backyard playing with dogs or secreted away in the bedroom the cat was hiding in. Just another quirk on the already long list of idiosyncrasies that Shiro adored about Hunk.

The walk was spent in comfortable silence, both too busy trying to put one foot in front of the other to engage in conversation. That was fine with Shiro. The warmth against his side from where Hunk was tucked close warded off the November chill and made his heart lighter than it had been in months. The void was filled - albeit momentarily - but he couldn't ask for more than this. Didn't dare to break the fragile gift of reuniting with Hunk.

It took Shiro four tries to finally focus his hand eye coordination enough to get his key in its slot and they stumbled into Shiro’s apartment, giggling as they separated and immediately losing their balance, trying to stabilise each other but inevitably careening into the wall. Hunk - still wheezing out laughter - was pressed firmly against Shiro’s chest, heads resting against one another (foreheads throbbing from an accidental headbutt). Flesh and prosthetic arms alike circled around the softness of Hunk’s middle, once again holding him steady.

“Do you remember that time we fucked in the bathroom on campus,” Hunk said out of nowhere, tracing his fingers up and down Shiro’s bicep with the lightest of touches. His breath hitched, shivers tingling down his spine in the best way.

Shiro wondered where this was going, but mumbled anyway: “Second floor of the Humanities building.”

“And then a bunch of people walked in, right past our stall. Talking shit about the Anthropology professor.” Hunk had been pressed to the wall, legs around Shiro’s waist, dick still in his ass. The disabled stall they were in was right next to the entrance that was occupied by frat boys who would definitely hear any suspicious noises. “Then you started copying them and making stupid faces. I couldn't stop laughing and the guys yelled at me through the door.” Hunk smiled fondly at the memory, fingers trailing all the way up Shiro’s arm to rest his palm against Shiro’s jaw, thumb stroking his cheek. Heart hammering against his ribs, Shiro held his breath, still unsure of the trajectory of the conversation but trying to steel his nerves for anything. Brown eyes warmed with emotions held in check for years, grey eyes staring right back, disbelieving. “It was then that I knew I loved you.”

Realisation dawned on Shiro, his world shifting into focus for the first time since they parted ways.

Shiro was an idiot.

Such a fucking _idiot_.

“Can I kiss you?” Shiro breathed, pressing his lips to Hunk’s hand, his eyes locked onto plump lips that he’d always found so utterly perfect. Full with a prominent Cupid’s bow, it was hard to resist the urge to just surge forward and connect. But Shiro needed to make sure that his affections were wanted, that there were no if's or but's attached to the confession he'd waited for all his life. The spark in the air, the buzz under his skin, Hunk's soft “yes” spoken against his lips before they crashed together, two beings finally becoming one; romance movies didn't do the moment justice. Like everything else about Hunk, his lips were soft, eager to follow wherever Shiro directed the kiss. He tasted like tequila and sunshine, made noises in the back of his throat that lit Shiro’s blood on fire.

Hands clutching at Shiro’s lapel like a lifeline, Hunk broke the kiss. “Bedroom,” Hunk said, tone leaving no room for argument - not that Shiro wanted to argue. Much like their entrance, they made their way to Shiro’s bedroom with more than a few stumbles and bumps into the walls. The fact that Hunk refused to take his hands off Shiro for even a second didn’t help neither, but Shiro wouldn’t have it any other way. Clothes littered the hallway in their wake; pants and shirts shucked haphazardly in desperation to be as close as possible. Hunk touched him everywhere as soon as they collapsed onto the bed: still in briefs he straddled Shiro’s waist, hands trailing over ribs and waist, lips dutifully worrying a bruise on Shiro’s neck - claiming. Sensations melded together, one indistinguishable from the next, until his world narrowed down to Hunk’s lips on his once more. This kiss was slow and languid. Affectionate. A sudden change of pace brought about by droopy eyelids fighting off the siren’s call of sleep. Hunk’s weight settled on top of Shiro, and words can't describe the fullness of his heart in that moment, the void suddenly (blessedly) filled.

And as Hunk mumbled things in Shiro’s ear as he drifted off, Shiro hoped that this wasn’t a fluke, wasn’t just a one time thing.

Hoped that Hunk would stay with him come morning.

**Author's Note:**

> next ch: the morning after, proper confessions, and spice uwu
> 
> Follow me on Twitter! @ya_boi_shiro


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